


Never Let Me Go

by QuinTalon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-13 23:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19260982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuinTalon/pseuds/QuinTalon
Summary: Seven months ago, Draco made a decision that has tormented him every day since. He told everyone he was fine, it was for the best. He was lying, of course, even to himself. But, the lie was so much better than reality. He really was fine. Until he saw her again.





	Never Let Me Go

**Author's Note:**

> Much love and thanks to MrsRen for taking the time to beta this for me. You are amazing! 💛
> 
> This was inspired by the song Far Away by Nickelback.
> 
> Disclaimer: Many thanks to JK Rowling for creating an amazing world we love to play in. I don't own any of the Harry Potter characters, they just were kind enough to help me tell this story.

* * *

 

It was dark. Dark, and cold, and empty. The only sound he could hear was his own rasping breath. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew he had lost something and needed to find it. Something important. Something precious. Something he couldn’t live without.

 

He stumbled through the pitch black, searching, before a flash of light caught his eye. He turned and staggered towards it. 

 

Chestnut hair. Wide eyes that were the shade of cinnamon. 

 

_ Hermione. _

 

He called out her name, reaching his hand out towards her. She did not move, remaining where she was, looking at him with forlorn eyes. He began to run towards her. “Hermione!”

 

She had not moved but somehow he was no closer to her. He ran harder, faster, yet she remained immobile and unreachable. He called her name again and again, never receiving a response.

 

Suddenly she began to move, turning away from him, not looking back.

 

“No! Hermione, please! Don’t go! Come back!” He skidded to a halt as he saw a wide chasm spread out before him, coming between him and Hermione.

 

“Please! I love you, Hermione! Don’t go! I miss you, I need you. Please!” His throat was raw from his yelled pleas, his chest tight with panic. “No, no! Please…” he whimpered.

 

He dropped to his knees and screamed as the darkness engulfed him again. His light was gone. 

 

Panicking and unable to breath, he clawed at his chest and throat, desperate for air. Despair engulfed him moments before he lurched forward, the ground giving away beneath him as he fell into the black void.

 

Draco jolted awake, panting and confused. A dream. Just a dream. He was in his bed, and judging by the darkness of the room, he had only been asleep for a short time. 

 

He ran a hand over his damp face as he tried to catch his breath, wiping away the tears mixed with sweat. His sheets were soaked and blankets were tangled around him.

 

Similar dreams had been plaguing him since it happened. Since he drove her away.

 

He sat up wearily in his bed, head hanging low, arms draped across his knees. His mind was assaulted by the memories of the last time he had seen Hermione.

 

_ “Draco, I know something’s wrong. You’ve been pulling away from me. I hardly see you anymore and when I do, you barely speak to me. I don’t understand. Have I done something? Please, just talk to me!”  _

 

_ Draco sat rigidly in his chair, jaw and fists clenched, looking anywhere but her. He wouldn’t be able to do this if he looked at her. _

 

_ He closed his eyes as he heard her let out a heartbreaking sob. “Please, Draco. I–I love you.” _

 

_ He clenched his hands tighter, nails digging into his palms. He focused his eyes on the floor, forcing himself to follow the patterns of the wood grain instead of looking at her.  _

 

_ He tried to block out the sounds of her crying—the stuttering breaths, the sniffling, the broken sobs. He hoped she stopped soon. He wasn’t worth crying over. _

 

_ He startled as she let out a loud, angry growl and stomped her foot.  _

 

_ “Say something!” she screamed. Instead, he stayed very still, eyes boring into the floor. _

 

_ After a minute of silence, she quietly said the thing he knew was coming, but dreaded. “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t know what’s wrong. I know you love me. At least, I know you  _ loved _ me—once. I’m not sure anymore.” She took a shuddering breath. “Tell me you don’t love me. Tell me and I’ll leave, you won’t have to see me again.” _

 

_ Oh, but that was the one thing he couldn’t say. _

 

_ More silence, finally broken by one last sob. “You can’t even say that, can you? Can’t say the one thing that would let me go. But you won’t say anything to make me stay.” _

 

_ Carefully clearing his face of the tenderness he normally wore for her, he quirked his lips into a sneer, arranging his features into the mask he once wore. He finally raised his eyes and met hers. He watched as she blanched at what she saw there. _

 

_ Shaking her head as tears continued to stream down her face, she turned her back on him. The last thing he heard before she apparated away was a whispered, “Goodbye, Draco.” _

 

His heart aching from the memory, Draco tumbled out of bed and slowly made his way to his en-suite. He splashed cold water on his face, then studied himself in the mirror.

 

He was pale, any color he once had was gone, skin now so white it was almost translucent. He had dark, purplish circles under his bloodshot eyes. There was rugged stubble across his face–he hadn’t bothered to shave in days. His hair was longer than he normally liked, now stringy and unkempt.

 

He looked awful, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He rarely left his flat anymore so what was the point? He sighed tiredly and ran a hand through his tangled hair. 

 

He trudged back to his bed, sitting on it heavily before leaning over to open the top drawer of his bedside table. He rooted around while looking for a bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. Finding only one bottle, he made a mental note to brew some more the following day. Swiftly drinking the potion, he lay back on his pillows and waited for the sweet oblivion of a few hours respite.

 

* * *

 

“Come out with us tonight.”

 

Draco lifted his eyes from the potion he was brewing to look at his best friend. Blaise was one of the few people he saw on a regular basis anymore. He shook his head to decline. “No thanks, mate.”

 

Blaise threw his head back and groaned in frustration. “Salazar’s shiny green knickers! You need to get out of this flat, Draco. You’ve locked yourself in here long enough. It’s been months! You are coming out for drinks with us tonight, even if I have to  _ Mobilicorpus _ you there myself!”

 

Draco silently continued to monitor his cauldron, before adding in the Valerian sprigs. He steadfastly ignored the other wizard as he stared at him.

 

Heaving a sigh, Blaise stepped closer to Draco and put a hand on his shoulder. “It’s been months, mate. You either need to tell her what happened… or you need to let go.”

 

Draco shrugged the hand off his shoulder and turned hard eyes on his friend. “No. I won’t tell her. She doesn’t need that. She deserves better.”

 

“Yes, she does. She deserves to know why you did what you did. She deserves the truth! You spent three bloody months–”

 

“No!” Draco shouted over him. “I can’t tell her—you know that! You know what they—” He cut off with a growl and pressed the heel of his hands to his eyes. “Stop, Blaise. Just stop. Please.”

 

“Fine. But please stop doing this to yourself. I’m worried about you. We’re  _ all _ worried about you.”

 

Draco ran his hands through his hair and leaned on the table, back straight and tense. “There’s nothing to worry about. I’m fine.”

 

“No, you’re not. You’re losing yourself in here. This isn’t living, Draco. This is hiding.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face. “Please, just come out with us tonight. You only have to stay an hour or two, alright?”

 

Seeing the concern in the eyes of his usually stoic best friend, Draco gave in. Defeated he muttered, “I… Yeah, alright.” 

 

* * *

 

The pub was busy, despite it being a Thursday night. Draco, Blaise, and Theo had settled themselves into a booth in a dark corner, the table littered with empty glasses.

 

“Another round?” Theo asked as he stood. Draco and Blaise merely nodded in response. “Right, back in a tick.”

 

He returned a few minutes later, drinks in hand. Draco grabbed one and immediately brought it to his lips. He had decided if he had to be out, he would make the most of it. Theo and Blaise chatted about things Draco had no interest in anymore as they continued to drain their glasses.

 

Draco made to stand, but was stopped by Blaise’s overly loud, “Where you heading, mate? You aren’t leaving already, are you?”

 

Giving him an annoyed roll of his eyes, Draco drawled, “No. I’m headed to the loo, if that meets with your approval.” 

 

Blaise grinned at him and chuckled, “Oh, yes. You have my permission to go. Hurry back!”

 

Shaking his head, he made his way to the back hall. He quickly took care of business and headed back to the table. He came to a halt as he rounded the corner and looked towards the corner booth. 

 

There, talking with his friends, was the curly haired witch that haunted his dreams and every waking thought. For a brief moment, he thought he  _ was _ dreaming or that maybe he was more pissed than he assumed and was seeing things. But no, she was there. Laughing at something Theo said, and standing much too close to Harry bloody Potter.

 

He had not seen her in seven months, not since that night. He remained frozen, drinking in the image of her. She looked beautiful, even more so than he remembered. Riotous curls cascaded down her back, bouncing merrily as she shook her head. He could only see her profile, but what he could glimpse of her smile still shone a light into his miserable soul. His breath hitched as the sound of her laughter reached his ears.

 

Maybe… Maybe he  _ could _ tell her. Maybe he still had a chance. He began to smile for the first time in ages, his cheeks stretching from disuse. Hope, that feeling he could barely recall, began to rise in him. 

 

But as suddenly as it had come, hope fled.

 

Draco watched in shock as Potter wrapped his arm around Hermione’s waist, pulling her to him, and placing a kiss on her curls. Jealousy and anger ripped through him. How stupid he was to think he may still have a chance with her–after the way he treated her, after the way he shut her out of his life. Of course she moved on. Why would she wait for someone like him?

 

The air rapidly became stifling and Draco could not breath. He needed to get out of here. He needed fresh air. He roughly pulled on the collar of his shirt that was suddenly too tight. He blindly pushed his way through the crowd towards the door, ignoring the calls of his friends. 

 

As soon as he flung the door open, he ran.

 

* * *

 

He stumbled into his flat, running into a table and knocking over the stack of books precariously perched there. Slipping on a fallen book, he roughly caught the back of the sofa just in time to stop his fall.

 

Alcohol. He needed more alcohol.

 

He ripped off his jacket and tie, dropping them on the floor as he made his way to the kitchen. He yanked open the cupboard above the sink and grabbed the full bottle of Ogden’s he had stored there. Negating the need for a glass, he opened the bottle and put it to his lips, taking a long pull.

 

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and walked on unsteady legs to his bedroom. He slumped down onto the floor beside his bed, resting his head on the mattress and legs stretched out before him. 

 

His mind raced with images of Hermione as he swallowed countless mouthfuls of the amber liquid in his hands—memories of their time together, how her face shone when she smiled, the sound her laugh, her sobs from  _ that night _ , the way she leaned into Potter tonight. 

 

The pain, anger, and despair he had been holding back for months finally overwhelmed him. He curled in on himself and fell to his side, the half empty bottle rolling away as it left a wet trail. He wrapped his arms around his middle and pulled his knees to his chest. He gulped for air as great wracking sobs tore through his body, finally mourning the life he once had and the love he lost.

 

Through the haze of his drunkenness and grief, he vaguely heard footsteps approaching and a muttered, “Shite.” The footsteps retreated as whoever it was left him in a huddle on the floor. Not caring, he curled further into himself.

 

Minutes, hours, days later—Draco wasn’t sure—he heard another set of footsteps, lighter than the last. 

 

He felt cool hands on his face, brushing back the hair that had fallen into his eyes. A gentle voice whispered, “Shh, Draco. I’m here. You’re okay. Shh. I’m here now.”

 

“Gone. S-she’s gone. Nev-never— hold her again.” A deep raspy voice stuttered. It took a moment for it to register that it was he who had spoken.

 

“Shh, I’m here,” the calm voice said close to his ear.

 

“Ca-can’t breath. Can’t b-breath without her.” A painful sob wracked his body as he wheezed and gasped for air. “Gone… Hermione… She’s gone. I lost her.”

 

Slim arms wrapped around him, holding him tight.

 

“Draco. Shh. Breathe. I need you to take deep breaths. Listen to my heartbeat and my breathing. Shh. I’m here, Draco.”

 

He tried to do as the kind voice asked, unwrapping one of his arms to clutch onto whoever the voice belonged to, as he struggled to match his breaths to theirs. The cool fingers from before began to run through his hair, their touch comforting.

 

Finally, after what felt like ages, Draco began to calm and exhaustion took over. He sagged into the body that held him. A body that felt familiar. Rolling his head back, he strained to see the face looking down at him, fighting the blackness creeping in on the edges of his vision. 

 

“Hermione?” He slurred before the blackness finally overtook him.

 

* * *

 

Draco slowly blinked his eyes open, trying to cling to the last vestiges of the dream he did not want to wake from. He only had flashes of it as it faded—Hermione running her hands through his hair, holding him as they lay side by side in bed, whispered words of love.

 

He groaned as he moved his head away from the bright light streaming in through the window of his bedroom. His head pounded from the movement and he fought down the nausea that threatened. 

 

_ Merlin, how much did I drink last night? I don’t even remember getting into bed. The last thing I remember was... _

 

He squeezed his eyes shut as he recalled what happened at the pub before he ran. Hermione had been there and she had been in the arms of Potter, that sodding wanker. He felt his chest start to constrict again. 

 

He began to roll over, to turn his back to the window, when he noticed a weight across his legs. He turned his head and opened his eyes just a sliver, hoping to block out the light as much as possible. However, his eyes flew open at the sight before him.

 

Hermione was laying in bed with him, her leg slung over his and her hand resting on his arm. 

 

_ How… A dream. This must be another dream.  _

 

He blinked once, then again. She was still there. He pinched his arm hard enough to leave a bruise. Still there. 

 

He stared at her. She looked so peaceful, so beautiful. He studied her features, memorizing them, knowing this may be his last chance. Her long lashes lay against her cheek, her lips curved in a tiny smile as she dreamed. Her wild curls were spread out over the pillow and partially covered her face. 

 

Unable to stop himself, he gently pushed the hair back, the tip of his finger barely brushing against her soft skin. She shifted slightly at the touch, wrinkling her nose slightly. Draco smiled softly at the sight.

 

He lay there unmoving as he relished in her warmth for another half hour before Hermione started to stir. She turned her head until she was facedown on the pillow and let out a soft groan. She began to stretch, but froze when her leg rubbed against his knee. She slowly lifted her head and locked wide eyes on him. She swallowed and Draco watched the movement of her throat.

 

“Good morning,” she whispered.

 

“Morning.” he croaked. He started to sit up but quickly dropped his head back onto the pillow as the throbbing pain returned. “Merlin, my head.”

 

“Hold on, I have something here for that.” She sat up and reached over to the nightstand, grabbing a potion before handing it to him.

 

He quickly downed it and the ache in his head began to fade almost immediately. Sighing in relief, he muttered, “Thank you.”

 

“Of course.”

 

Draco slowly sat up and faced her. She was sitting cross legged next to him, looking nervous and unsure, head bent down as she fiddled with the cuff of her pajama pants. 

 

“Hermione… How are you here? I haven’t seen you in...”

 

“Seven months. I know.” She looked at him from under her lashes as she bit her bottom lip. “Um, tell you what. Why don’t you go get a shower, and I’ll make us breakfast. We… We should talk.”

 

_ She wants to talk. _ Draco was feeling simultaneously elated and terrified. “I… Yeah, we should.”

 

He made his way to his en-suite and quickly stepped into the shower. The hot water helped to clear his head further and soothed his aching muscles. 

 

Once done, he dressed and headed to the kitchen. Hermione smiled nervously at him as she handed him a plate of pancakes.

 

They sat together at the kitchen table, eating in uncomfortable silence. Finally, Draco mumbled, “Thank you for breakfast. It’s delicious. I’ve always loved your pancakes.”

 

“I know,” she responded quietly.

 

He cleared his throat, a nervous habit of his. “So. I confess I don’t remember much of last night, beyond being at the pub with Blaise and Theo, then…”

 

“Seeing me there with Harry?”

 

He fought the jealousy he felt rising once more and muttered, “Yeah.”

 

“I saw you leaving… I-I wanted to follow you but…” She tilted her head down and studied her fingers as she nervously played with her napkin. “Blaise went after you and came back half an hour later. He said you were… Well, that you needed me. So, he brought me here.”

 

“So… that was real? I thought—” Draco swallowed roughly. “I thought it was another dream, one where you were back.” He started to reach across the table to take her hand in his but pulled back just before he touched her. “Why did you come, Hermione? After the way I treated you?”

 

He heard a quiet sniff before she raised her head and met his eyes with a shrug. “You needed me.”

 

He sat back in his chair, the simple statement shocking him. She came because he needed her, just like that. He didn’t know how to respond.

 

“Draco… I-I know that something was going on back then. I know it was more than you let on. What I saw last night…” She closed her eyes and took a shuddering breath. “I know I may not mean much to you anymore, but… you need to take care of yourself. Blaise told me that last night was the first time you had gone out in months. The flat is a wreck and you—well, you look awful. Almost as bad as—"

 

She cut off, both knowing she was referring to sixth year. The war.

 

“I want to help, if you’ll let me.” Her wide eyes shone with unshed tears and he could see the pain and concern she felt reflected in them. 

 

“I don’t deserve your help. Not after… I was so horrible to you. I’m sorry, Hermione. So sorry.”

 

She tilted her head to the side. “Can you tell me now? Why you pulled away? At the time, I thought I had done something, but I don’t think that’s what happened.”

 

Draco shook his head and crossed his arms. “I-I can’t.”

 

“Yes. You can. I deserve to know the truth, don’t I? We were together for almost two years Draco. You were… my life.”

 

Blaise was right.  _ She _ was right. Maybe it was time to tell her and hope she can forgive him someday. “Can we move into the sitting room? I think we’d be more comfortable there.”

 

Hermione merely nodded and they moved into the other room, each taking one end of the sofa. 

 

Draco sat with his elbows on his knees and head bent, trying to figure out how to start. Sighing deeply, he ran a hand through his hair and turned towards Hermione.

 

“This is difficult for me to talk about, so please let me get through it before you speak.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Draco cleared his throat again. “You remember how I would occasionally receive letters from my father? How much I hated getting them?” 

 

She nodded.

 

“He started to send them more frequently. I didn’t tell you about them, because they were all the same. How dare I sully the Malfoy name by dating you, how disappointed he was with me. The usual. But then they started to include threats. I’m ashamed to admit I didn’t take them seriously at first. I was outraged, but thought ‘what could my father possibly do from his lifetime cell in Azkaban’. I thought they were empty threats, his way of trying to put me back under his thumb.”

 

Draco stood and began pacing, not able to sit still as he relived the memories.

 

“Then the letters started to list details of outings we’d been on. How we were seen holding hands in Diagon Alley, the stores we visited, that we stopped to buy ice cream–he even listed the flavors. Some would include photos of the two of us. I still thought it was just a ploy… until he started threatening  _ you _ . That’s—that’s when I started to take them seriously. That’s when I stopped wanting to go out. I thought maybe the threats would stop if we were no longer seen out together.”

 

Draco dared a look towards Hermione. She was sitting perfectly still, her face pale and hands clenched. The only movement were her eyes as they followed his path back and forth across the room. He stopped and met her eyes before continuing. 

 

“But I was wrong. So wrong. I knew he had to have someone on the outside getting the information to him, so I thought we would be safe if I took that away. But then I started getting photos of us entering or leaving each other’s flats.” He resumed his pacing, running his hands through his hair. “The threats were becoming more terrifying, but I didn’t want to worry you. You were in the middle of working on the presentation for the Wizengamot to address the Bill for Werewolf Rights and you were so stressed out already. I didn’t want to add to it. So I went to the Aurors, showed them all the letters and photos. They began to track my father’s mail and the people who visited him. But the letters kept coming. I started to pull away. I didn’t know how else to protect you.”

 

He stopped in front of her, hands balled into fists. Draco felt a stab in his heart when he saw unshed tears in her eyes, her lips pressed into a thin line.

 

“That last day… when you left… I had gotten another letter that day. It only said ‘soon’ and had a picture of you asleep in your bed. They had been in your  _ flat _ ! I was livid, beyond angry. And so scared something would happen to you. I took it straight to the Auror assigned my case and told him they needed to find out who was doing this  _ now _ . He of course said they were working on it, these things take time, the normal trash.”

 

He stepped to the fireplace and leaned against the mantle, his back to Hermione. He couldn’t look into her eyes when he finally admitted how he had broken both their hearts.

 

“That’s when I knew what I had to do,” he said lowly. “I had to make you leave, make you hate me. I knew if I told you what had been going on, you would want to fight it with me. You would become that fierce, glorious witch who would stand up to anyone who threatened someone you cared about.”

 

Draco spun around, desperate for her to understand. “But I couldn’t let you do that. Not for  _ me _ . I couldn't let something happen to you because of me. I know it wasn’t the best way to handle the situation, I know I hurt you. I hate that I did. And I am so, so sorry for that. But I’m not sorry for doing all I could to keep you safe.”

 

Hermione’s face was devoid of any emotion as she asked, “Am I still in danger? Are you?”

 

He shook his head. “No. It took them three months, but they finally took down my father’s little ring of spies. All had connections to Death Eaters or had been themselves, and were all wanted for other crimes. They’re all in Azkaban now. And my father has lost his visitation privileges and all his correspondence are now opened and reviewed. He is no longer allowed to write me or Mother without our consent.”

 

Hermione slowly stood from the sofa, her eyes narrowed and her face flushed. “Three months… So, you’re telling me that the threat to us ended four months ago? Why didn’t you tell me once it was over? Why am I only hearing about it now,  _ four months after the fact _ ?”

 

He took an involuntary step back in the face her anger. “You were in danger because of me. You are safer away from me. Better off without me.”

 

“Safer…” She scoffed and pointed a finger at him. “I spent most of my childhood in danger. I know how to take care of myself. And you must be a complete  _ idiot _ if you thought I was better off without you. The last seven months have been  _ hell _ .”

 

Draco crossed his arms and looked away from her. He muttered, “Well, you seemed to have moved on just fine.”

 

“Excuse me?” she rasped in a deathly quiet tone.

 

He shrugged and shifted on his feet. “I saw you with Potter. I saw the way he was holding you.”

 

“You complete arse!” Draco almost startled at the volume of her voice. “You  _ know _ there is nothing between Harry and I, there never has been. He’s like my brother. Merlin, that’s just…  _ ew _ .” She shivered slightly, a disgusted frown on her face. She narrowed her eyes at him. “What you saw was my  _ brother _ trying to comfort me when I asked about  _ you,  _ you pillock. Because I always ask them about you. Because even if you don’t care for me anymore, I still—” She cut off with a shake of her head.

 

Draco snapped his eyes to Hermione, studying her. Her face was flushed, from her anger or her almost confession he wasn’t sure. She was nervously fiddling with the sleeve of her jumper, bottom lip firmly tucked between her teeth, her eyes downcast and avoiding him.

 

_ Could she still… Does she still love me? _

 

He had to know. He cleared his throat as he took a step closer to her, longing to reach out for her.

 

“You still what, Hermione?” he asked in a soft voice.

 

She did not answer, crossing her arms and turning her head away from him instead.

 

“Do you still love me, after all I’ve done? Because I still love you.” Her head snapped back towards him, her eyes wide.

 

“I never stopped loving you. Pulling away from you, acting like I didn’t care anymore, watching you walk way—that was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. Do you know what I did after you left?” She slowly shook her head. “I lost it. I screamed and threw everything within reach. I turned my wand on the room and when I was done, everything was in pieces. Including me. I just shut down after that. I stopped going out, stopped seeing my friends. I shut myself away. As punishment, I guess. For what I did to you.”

 

He heard her breath catch as tears filled her eyes once more. Her lips trembled as she pulled her arms closer around herself, she blinked and the first tear fell, sliding slowly down her cheek. Draco stepped closer to her as she lifted her eyes to meet his.

 

“I’m so sorry, love,” he whispered. “For everything. If I could go back, I would tell you everything that was going on from the beginning. I wouldn’t keep it a secret. I would tell you everyday that I love you, that I need you, that I can’t live without you. I would never let you go.”

 

Draco took another step towards her, slowly lifting his hand to wipe away her tears. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against his hand.

 

“I love you so much, Hermione. A part of me died when I pushed you away. I’m so sorry. Please, please forgive me.” 

 

At her broken sob, Draco pulled Hermione into his arms and held onto her tightly. The sensation of being so close to her again was almost overwhelming. He ran a soothing hand up and down her back while the other cradled her head against his chest.

 

He leaned in and pressed his lips against her temple before whispering into her ear, “I know I don’t deserve a second chance at being yours, but Merlin I would give anything for it. I’ll understand if you can’t. We can take our time, start slow. Just please tell me if I have even a ghost of a chance.”

 

He felt her stiffen for a few seconds before pressing herself closer to him. She took a shuddering breath. “I-I don’t know, Draco. It’s been seven months. Seven months of me doubting what we had, of thinking you had never loved me, of feeling stupid for falling for you in the first place. I don’t know if we can get back what we had before.”

 

Draco felt something break in him as her words washed over him. He was surprised. He hadn’t thought there was anything left to break. 

 

_ Right. Of course. I don’t deserve another chance. Who ever gets a third chance with a witch like this, let alone a second? _

 

Despite knowing this would be the outcome, he had still hoped, still wished she would be his again someday. His arms tightened around her, his body refusing to let go.

 

“But… But I think I’d like to try.” She lifted her head from his chest and he gazed down into her eyes, gorgeous even when red rimmed and filled with tears.

 

He was sure he looked shocked, he felt his jaw drop and eyes fly wide. He swallowed roughly and croaked out, “Yeah?”

 

Hermione nodded her head with a small smile. “Yeah.” Her smile faded as she added, “But, Draco. I need to go slow. I need time. I can’t just jump right back in.”

 

Draco cupped her cheek as he placed a soft kiss on her forehead. “I’ll give you whatever time you need, love. I’ll give you everything you need if I can.”

 

“I think to start, I’d like to try being friends.”

 

“Friends.” He tried to keep the disappointment out of his voice, but knew some leaked through.  _ Suck it up, man. This is more than you deserve. _

 

She hummed in agreement as she nodded her head against his chest. “We sort of skipped that part before, jumped into bed together almost right away.”

 

He smirked at the memory, “Oh yeah. Best shag of my life, that was.”

 

She snorted and hit him on the arm. “Anyway. I think we should try this and see how it goes. Part of our problem before was our reluctance to talk things through.”

 

“I agree. Alright, love. I’ll follow your lead on this.” He pulled back so he could meet her eyes. “But, may I ask for one thing first?”

 

She arched her eyebrow and tilted her head. “Depends on what that one thing is. I’m not shagging you today.”

 

“No, no shagging today.” He cupped her face and ran his thumb along her cheek. “Will you grant me one kiss, Hermione? To tide me over for now?”

 

She stared up at him with wide eyes and he watched the movement of her throat as she swallowed. “Yes.”

 

He smiled widely as he leaned in, wrapping his other arm securely around her waist. “Thank you,” he whispered against her lips before capturing them with his own.

 

Oh sweet Salazar, the feel of her lips against his was better than he remembered. He pulled her tighter against him as he moved his hand from her cheek up into her hair. He gently pulled to angle her face so he could deepen the kiss. He softly bit her bottom lip before running his tongue along it, asking for entrance.

 

A soft moan broke the silence when their tongues met, and Draco was so lost in the kiss, he had no idea who it came from. He felt Hermione’s arms pull him closer as she slid one hand up to play with the hair at the nape of his neck. The next moan he knew was definitely his.

 

When they finally drew apart, both gasping for air, he pressed his forehead against hers.

 

“Merlin,” was all he could say in a shaky voice.

 

“I quite agree,” she whispered.

 

They met each other’s eyes, letting out giddy laughter. 

 

He pulled her against him again, burying his face in her neck, breathing in the delicious smell of the vanilla honey shampoo she favored. He had missed that smell.

 

“Thank you, love,” he breathed. “Thank you for giving me a chance to show you how I truly feel about you.”

 

He felt her arms tighten around him as she nuzzled into him. “Draco?”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“I do.”

 

It took him a few moments to process what she was saying, but when he did, he pulled back quickly and lifted her face so he could meet her eyes. He held his breath as he waited for her to open her eyes.

 

She blinked and looked up at him from under her lashes, a flattering blush spreading across her cheeks. She smiled as she said the words he longed to hear more than anything. “I love you, Draco.”

 

Triumph and hope and happiness roared through him as he let out an exhilarated laugh. He scooped her into his arms as he spun them about, eliciting a delighted giggle from her. He peppered her face with kisses in between a string of rambling words he could not hold back. “Oh, thank Merlin. I love you, Hermione. Thank you. Thank you. I love you so much, you amazing witch.”

 

He set her back on her feet, an elated grin on his face. They were both breathing heavy as they laughed. When they calmed, he took a step back.

 

“I’m sorry. You asked to take things slow, but I just couldn’t help myself.” He grinned goofily at her. “You still love me. Merlin, I never thought I would hear you say those words again.” He couldn’t hold back another loud bark of a laugh. “I can’t tell you how happy that made me, love.”

 

Draco held up his hands in front of him and took another step back. “I’m going to kiss you breathless if I get any closer to you.” He smirked as the blush on her cheeks deepened. “Hands off until you say otherwise, promise.”

 

“I’ll hold you to that, mister.” Hermione grinned at him, and he thought it was the most wonderful thing he had ever seen. She glanced over his shoulder to the clock on the mantle. “Right. So, I should probably go home to shower and feed Crooks.” She tucked some hair behind her ear. “Do… do you want to meet for lunch somewhere?”

 

He nodded eagerly. “Yes, absolutely. Just tell me where and when, and I’ll be there.”

 

“How about that cafe that makes those chicken sandwiches you like, in an hour?”

 

“That sounds perfect.”

 

Hermione walked to the fireplace and reached up to grab a handful of floo powder. Before she could throw it into the fire, Draco stepped up behind her.

 

“Hermione?”

 

She looked at him over her shoulder, eyebrows lifted in question.

 

“One last thing, before you go and we meet as friends.” She turned around to face him, eyes hesitant. “When you tell me you are ready and let me hold you in my arms again, I promise you love, I will never let you go.”

 

She swallowed roughly and nodded, once again blinking back tears. “Promise?”

 

He gently tucked a loose tendril of hair behind her ear. “I promise, Hermione. Never again.”

 

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut, taking in a shaky breath. “Okay.” She stepped back and turned to the fireplace, tossing in the powder as she called out her address. Before she disappeared in a flash of green flames, Draco saw her smile brightly at him, happiness sparkling in her eyes.

 

Draco stood still for a few moments, staring at the empty space before him, as a myriad of emotions overcame him. Joy, excitement, love, anticipation, hope. 

 

With a decisive stride, he headed into his bedroom to prepare to meet Hermione for lunch. He had plans to make, promises to keep. He would prove to his witch that he loved her, that he would never let her go again. He would use all his Slytherin wiles to win her over once more. 

 

Blaise had been right. He hadn’t been living since Hermione left. It was time to start.

 

Breathing freely for the first time in months, Draco stepped out into the afternoon sun. He felt a familiar smirk slide into place as he made his way down the sidewalk, determination guiding his steps.

 

He had a witch to woo.

  
  
  


 


End file.
